


Signs

by r0salynee



Category: Metal Gear
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 08:06:54
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10658427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/r0salynee/pseuds/r0salynee
Summary: "I didn't know you could be so talkative, Quiet."Originally written for Rare Pair Week, Day 2- "Secrets"





	Signs

She was pacing, pacing between all ten by ten feet the tiny cell allowed her. It was so much it would be putting that old saying to shame-- pacing so much to put a hole in the floor. At this point, Quiet would be at the bottom of the ocean. Ocelot noticed, of course, he noticed every tiny thing she did, keeping track of it like some freaky science experiment; it was half right, so she had to give him that.  
“Waiting for something?”  
Halting to a stop, she flashed him a glance before shrugging her shoulders. It was easy to be nonchalant with him around. The Russian didn't piss her off at easily as the sub-commander; she couldn't have kept her cool with him taking up her air space. For right now, however, she needed him off her back. A while ago, Ocelot had given her a small pad of paper in some hope that maybe Quiet would communicate with anyone, primarily him, that way; it was left blank since then, mainly ignored out of spite. She yanked it out from under the cot mattress where she kept it stashed in case anyone but him saw it laying around.   
It was the best time to humor him now.  
As she approached the bars, she couldn't help but catch the slightest hint of surprise in the Russian's eyes. Quiet tapped on the paper, motioning for something to write with; he was at least smart enough not to leave her a pen or pencil she could jam into some Diamond Dog personnel's neck. Reaching into the front pocket of his trousers, he produced a fountain pen, gesturing it towards her. Before Quiet was able to take it, he pulled it back just barely out of reach.  
“Going to give this right back, I hope.”  
With a huff and a roll of her eyes, she nodded for confirmation. Ocelot slowly motioned the pen back in her direction, watching carefully as it slipped from his hand into his. Quiet scribbled a bit on the pad to make sure the pen would write before scrawling something out on the pad. She flipped the pad over so he could read her chicken scratch; she had to bite back a chuckle as he struggled to read it.  
“Exercise?”  
It wasn't a believable lie, not even close.  
“Exercise? Really?”  
Quiet nodded again, keeping the same neutral facial expression, trying her damndest to pass off to him that she was absolutely serious. Ocelot studied the words on the paper one more time, then shot her a smug grin.  
“I should be off then,” he extended his hand back out for the pen, closing his fingers around it as she laid it in his hand, “Don't want to be interrupting you and your... exercise.”  
Quiet would be lying if she said she wasn't a bit stunned he was actually leaving, but she hid it pretty well. Her eyes trailed his movements as he walked towards the staircase leading back up to the main platform.  
“Oh, one more thing.”  
Nervousness hit her then, like a deep pit in her stomach all of a sudden. He knew she wanted, needed, him out, he wasn't stupid. Why would she think that would work? Exercise? Yeah, really?  
Ocelot sauntered his way around the side of the cell, his eyes peering at the single security camera in the room; Miller had it installed as a safety precaution, though he never checked it himself. The Russian extended an arm out, faking a yawn, tilting the camera upward as he knocked a closed fist into it. One hundred percent intentional.  
“You know, I can't remember now,” the smirk returned to his face, the close fist turned into a thumbs up. Quiet couldn't resist returning the gesture.

~

“Here.”  
Pequod froze, barely stepping a foot out of the chopper after arriving back from Mother Base. The boss had emerged from the back, doors still shut, no one else around, holding out a bundle of purple flowers he removed from a pouch from his gear.   
“Uh... thanks Boss, but I'm not much of a flower guy--”  
“I meant for your girl.”  
Panic surged through him in an instant. It was obvious, practically viewable from space. The pilot feigned a cough to clear his throat.  
“Girl? What girl? I don't know any girls--”  
“Pequod.”  
He caught a glance at the look the boss was giving him-- unimpressed, unconvinced, vaguely amused. Pequod sighed, removing his helmet and running a hand through his hair.  
“Who else knows?”  
“No one but me,” the boss assured, “maybe Ocelot, but I didn't tell him.”  
Ocelot knows everything.  
“Does she talk to you?”  
“Yeah, well, sort of.”  
“Sort of?”  
“My kid sister's deaf,” Pequod explained, “I taught her sign language. Caught on a helluva lot faster than I did.”  
The boss chuckled, “That's good. Be sure to keep that to yourself, yeah?”  
“Yeah, right boss.”  
Without another word, Pequod took the flowers from the other's hand, tucking it into his jumpsuit; the boss slid the door open and jumped out, greeted by Ocelot. As he exited the chopper, he noticed the two usual night guards coming from the higher platform towards the cell. Pequod swore silently, turning on his heel to go the other direction. He would need to come back later.  
“Rat! Otter!”  
The pilot was caught off guard by the Russian's shout, immediately catching their attention and saluting in response.  
“You two, with me.”  
“But, sir! Master Miller instructed us--”  
“Tell him you did then,” Ocelot retorted back, flashing a glance at the pilot, “Pequod, you can do guard duty for our guest, right?”  
Surprised, Pequod nodded, too nervous to speak.  
“Then that solves it,” Ocelot waited for the other soldiers to turn their backs to them, he gestured at the pilot to go.   
“One hour.”  
The words were mouthed.  
Ocelot really does know everything.

~

Quiet stopped mid-pace again, hearing footsteps banging on the metal staircase to the cell. Out of habit, she expected to see her usual guards, who did nothing but silently stare her down and point their guns at her on occasion.   
Such assholes.  
Dread turned into joy as Pequod rounded the end of the staircase, immediately smiling back. His smile was infectious; it was one of the few bright things Quiet found about this oil rig. She pressed against the iron bars as close as she could, too eager as the pilot approached them too.   
His visits were infrequent, especially down here. They got little time together in the chopper when she was allowed on missions with the boss, definitely no chance to speak with the soldier around. Rare moments were like this meant the world to them. They knew what the rest of the Diamond Dog soldier's would think if they found out. That she was using him to gain an advantage, that she would betray him sooner or later, she was a spy after all, it's what she does. Had it been anyone else, maybe. Pequod was different, so unbelievably different.  
She pulled off the bars, feigning a pout, bringing them up to move her hands and fingers to form the words.  
/You're late./  
Pequod scoffed a laugh, “The boss was late, I was right on time.”  
Jokingly rolling her eyes, she gestured again.  
/You both made me wait then./  
“Sorry.”  
/With the cat./  
“Mostly sorry about that.”  
Quiet broke out into a wide smile, matching Pequod's own.  
/How much time?/  
“Hour, maybe. If the commander doesn't notice,” his eyes motioning upwards.  
The sniper shook her head.  
/He won't./  
She pointed to the tilted security camera; the pilot had to laugh.  
“And who did that?”  
/The cat./  
“I'll have to thank him then.”  
Another roll of her eyes, and Quiet brought her hands back around the bars, sliding them downwards then upwards as if waiting. She didn't think her smile could be any bigger when Pequod placed his hands over hers.  
No one else here could make her act like this. Pequod was so different.

~

“So, we staying in or going out?”  
Pequod's taken her out of the cell before, it was nothing new. Sometimes they'd go inside the helicopter for some privacy and a quick piloting lesson. Other times it would be the conservation platform; it was risky, but Quiet's ability allowed her to sneak around easily. Even with a few close calls here and there, the trips out of the cell and without a third wheel were well worth it. This time wasn't a difficult option.  
/Staying in./  
The pilot raised an eyebrow, “Oh? That's unusual, especially for you.”  
She responded with a noncommittal shrug, tugging off the already loose padlock that secured the door. Another gift from Ocelot, she assumed. The gate swung open, allowing Pequod to enter into the cell.  
/How much time?/   
She asked again, hands moving a bit more frantic this time. The pilot slid the cuff of his sleeve up and checked his wrist watch.  
“About forty five minutes.”  
A moment of silence, followed by a quick nod of Quiet's head; she closed the space between them, crushing their lips together in a passionate, somewhat sloppy kiss. This was also nothing foreign to them, but to do it so suddenly definitely was. Pequod didn't seem to mind much regardless, arms already pulling her in closer as he deepened the kiss. The sniper made quick work unzipping the front of his jumpsuit; the purple flowers from earlier had spilled out onto the concrete floor before breaking the kiss and Quiet flashed him a curious gaze.  
“Those... were for you. From the boss. I mean-- the boss gave me those to give to you and--”  
A pause.  
“I'm killing it right now, aren't I?”  
She couldn't suppress a laugh then.  
/Not at all. Thank you./  
Without spending another second apart, Quiet continued removing the jumpsuit, both of them carefully tip-toeing around the scattered flowers until bumping into the side of the cot. The pair toppled on the mattress, the low grade springs underneath squeaking and straining over the extra weight. Pequod kicked off his jumpsuit and boots, leaving him in underwear a plain t-shirt, and an obvious, and partially embarrassing, erection. It really didn't take a whole lot to get him excited anymore, not after months of living on Mother Base where the popular method of relief was your dominant hand. Their current position left Quiet on top, who noticed his recent development, and took no time grinding herself against him. Pleased with his moan, bit back behind his teeth and lips, she repeated the motion in a continuous rhythm; she grabbed his hands and placed them on either side of her hips, encouraging him to keep the tempo she established as she brought her hands up behind her back to undo the strings of her bikini top.  
“Shit,” was all he uttered as she tossed the piece of clothing aside.  
This was the first time she's ever heard Pequod swear. It was kind of cute.  
Off guard from the word, the pilot flipped their positions, surprising the sniper again with how effortlessly he had done it. With Pequod above her, he went in for another kiss, one hand keeping him stable while the other worked to push down his underwear, relieving him off the confines of the fabric. Almost on instinct, Quiet spread her legs a bit further apart, giving him more space and allowing him wordless to continue; he understood the implication.  
“You're sure?”  
He never taught her the phrase she wanted to say, so she decided to spell it out for him.  
/F-U-C-K—M-E./  
“Can't argue with that then,” the pilot tugged her legs, dragging her closer, his fingers traveled down to the inner seam of her tights, tearing into an already existing rip; she feigned annoyance at that.  
“I'll get you a new pair.”  
Quiet couldn't attempt to sign anything smart back at him before the same fingers pushed aside the fabric of the thin black bottoms and probed inside her. She threw her head back against the pillow, groaning and gasping at the feeling. It had been so long since anyone but herself had touched her like that. He continued like that, progressively going deeper and deeper, his thumb circling around her clit in painfully slow motions; Quiet clamped a hand over her mouth, scared that she'd call out in the heat of the moment. She was almost disappointed when he drew his hand back, replaced instead by the head of his cock. The rest slid inside with no resistance, she was dripping wet from before and his fingers. Her legs locked around his waist, like she wanted to keep him like that forever. A minute passed before he began to slowly thrust, each movement growing faster and needier. Quiet's moans from behind her hand increased in volume, no matter how much she wanted to keep them stifled, no matter how badly she wanted to call out his name, scream it out even.   
The rhythm started to turn erratic, Pequod knew he wasn't going to keep this going for much longer. The pilot grabbed the wrist of the hand Quiet was trying to keep over her mouth, knocking it down to the mattress with some strength, exchanging the gloved palm with his lips. He kissed her like it was the last thing he'd ever do, thrusts continuing until he stilled; he would have pulled out if it hadn't been for Quiet's legs keeping him in place. She wouldn't have allowed it, she knew nothing would come of him finishing balls deep inside her. Freaky science experiments don't have to worry about motherhood at least.  
Pequod removed himself carefully after a while, cock flaccid and feeling absolutely worn. Quiet appeared the same way, he'd never seen her look so exhausted. All she did was flash him a little smile until he did the same.  
/How much time?/  
She asked again; Pequod could barely make it out by how lazily her fingers were moving.  
Another glance at his watch, vision hazy.  
“Two minutes?”

~

Ocelot reemerged into the room. Pequod had luckily been long gone before anything short of awkward could have happened. Quiet distracted herself in the shower.  
“Busy?”  
She turned to look at him, shutting the water off and began to walk towards the bars. Along the way, she yanked the torn tights off from the ground, showing the large rip along the front seams.  
“Ah, well,” Ocelot paused, covering a sly grin behind his hand, “We'll figure out something for that.”

~~

**Author's Note:**

> this is easily the laziest sex scene I've ever put to paper (Word doc?), but look, what matters is I tried.
> 
> Also I love Pequod and Quiet, there needs to be like... so much more of them in fic. I will make it my life mission to do so.


End file.
